


run faster (but don't scream)

by neondragons



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Tobi and Obito are the same person, but not really, this can get creepy..., this is a weird au even for me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24736849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neondragons/pseuds/neondragons
Summary: Deidara shows the plate-like shape to Obito and grins. "He broke his mask yesterday, so I'm making him another one, yeah."Obito's heart sinks to his feet. Static fills his head as he tries to comprehend what he's seeing."A mask." He repeats, eyes glued at the orange, swirly mask that used to behis.
Relationships: Deidara/Tobi (Naruto), Deidara/Uchiha Obito
Comments: 17
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So! This is a weird au I came up with while half-asleep. Basically, infinite tsukuyomi happened, but instead of depositing them into a perfect canon universe, the illusion takes place in modern setting. It's weird, it doesn't make sense, don't think too much of it lmao. 
> 
> Unbeta-ed.

It's not stalking, Obito swears. 

A few meters away, oblivious to his audience, Deidara sits on the grass and continues to sculpt figurines of animals— a miniature version of the mighty C2, a bird, every single one of it familiar to Obito. 

It's almost sunset. He's been watching Deidara for five days, and through his observation, his old partner should be collecting his stuff and preparing to go home. Today, however, Deidara seems content to let the sun fade into the night. 

Obito taps on the table idly, careful not to let his eyes linger despite wanting to drink in the mesmerizing sight of Deidara, breathing, creating. Alive. His coffee has gone cold in his paper cup and the park across has begun to empty of people. 

It's a good time as any to introduce himself. When he first came across Deidara a few days ago, in this same seat, his whole body became immovable. He only managed to stare at Deidara until the artist packed his things and went home. Obito realized his foolishness when Deidara disappeared from his sight. It could have been the last time he'll ever see Deidara and he just sat there like an idiot. 

So, he returned to the same place the next day. 

He found Deidara on the same spot he saw him and Obito never quite managed to stop coming back, day after day. 

Now, it's almost been a week and his hunger for Deidara's presence has grown into an enormous pit in his stomach. He wants to be _close_ to Deidara. He wants to talk to him without the masks. This time, Uchiha Obito finally has the chance to know Deidara. This time, he's free to want and keep him. 

Obito makes his mind up and leaves his table. He crosses the distance between the coffee shop and the park, eyes fixed on Deidara, sitting cross-legged with grass stains on his pants. The warm orange light of the sun casts Deidara in soft light, and Obito just— he _wants_. He wants to run his fingers through Deidara's hair, he wants to see his eyes sparkle every time he explains his art. He wants many things that he didn't allow himself to enjoy when he was Tobi. 

He stops at a fair distance, his shadow casting beside Deidara. His breath shudders out of his lungs. 

"Those are beautiful sculptures." He says. 

Deidara's head snaps up, and Obito's heart squeezes under his ribcage at the sight of clear, blue eyes. Deidara frowns, and his hands slow down their molding. Obito can't figure out what he's making, but some kind of… plate? 

"Thanks, hm." replies Deidara, with a heavy dose of suspicion. Obito, on the other hand, can't help the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips when he hears Deidara's familiar speech tick. 

Obito nods at the empty ground, "Do you mind if I sit here?" 

Deidara scoffs, "It's a public place. Do what you want, hm." 

Obito sits and tries his best to keep his eyes on the sculptures and not on Deidara, knowing it will creep the artist out. He points at the mini-C2 and grins. "That's a beautiful dragon. You're not big on traditional style, are you?"

"It's _my_ art, hm. When people see my art, I want them to think only of _me_ and not compare me to some old fart who's already dead, yeah." Deidara grunts as he tries to flatten the clay between his palm, then he narrows his eyes on Obito. "Did you really approach me because you like my art, hm?"

Obito's throat dries up, and he doesn't look away from Deidara when he answers, "Yes. They're very pretty." 

He expects Deidara to throw the clay at his face— it certainly has happened many times, a whole lifetime ago. He didn't expect Deidara to snort a laugh. Obito blinks, perplexed. 

"Nice try, hm." Deidara wipes tears at the corner of his eyes with the back of his hand. He sounds thoroughly amused and Obito has no idea why. "If you're flirting, your flattery needs work, man."

"You sound like an expert. Do you mind helping me practice?" 

The humor dies from Deidara's eyes and leaves Obito scrambling in his head if he'd moved too fast, too soon. Deidara smiles, and it's dry.

"Look, thanks for saying my art is pretty and implying that I'm pretty, too—"

"You are."

Deidara shoots him a reproachful look. "But I have a boyfriend, yeah? So, maybe tone down the flattery." 

Obito's mind screeches. 

A boyfriend. 

A scream tries to claw its way out of Obito's throat. A boyfriend?! Obito wants to ask who. He wants to grab Deidara's shoulders, shake him and yell, _I found you first!_ like a madman, but he doesn't want to terrify Deidara, however unfair the hand Fate dealt them with. 

His jaw tightens as he grins, and he hopes it's not as full of teeth as it feels. "I apologize if I overstep any boundaries." His temple throbs, his throat hurts from the keeping the stream of _it's me, senpai!_ and _you're supposed to be mine!_ untold. Instead, he swallows the bile and the words, and sincerely, he says, "He's a very lucky man." 

For a long moment, Deidara looks unsure of his sincerity, but Obito means every word. Whoever the shithead is, they're one lucky bastard to have the man Obito can only dream of having. The sentiment must have shown on his face because Deidara's face softens, and Obito's heart shrinks as he let himself believe for a second he's the reason for that fondness. 

"He's an idiot." Deidara says, and Obito— Obito wants to break something. In his ear, another Deidara yells, _Tobi you idiot!_ and Obito hopes this man treasures Deidara. He hopes this man takes good care of Deidara, like Obito hadn't been able to do, because _fuck,_ Obito would commit murder to hear Deidara call him an idiot again. Deidara pokes the clay sculpture in his hand, "This one is actually for him, hm."

Deidara shows the plate-like shape to Obito and grins. "He broke his mask yesterday, so I'm making him another one, yeah."

Obito's heart sinks to his feet. Static fills his head as he tries to comprehend what he's seeing. 

"A mask." He repeats, eyes glued at the orange, swirly mask that used to be _his._

Deidara opens his mouth to answer, but his eyes widen as he catches sight of something— _someone,_ behind Obito, and his eyes brighten considerably. 

Obito already knew who's behind him before Deidara even calls out:

" _Tobi!_ " 

Slowly, Obito tilts his head to look behind, and even though he has a hunch, the sight of _Tobi_ , of _himself_ , standing a few feet away still takes all the air from his lungs. This Tobi wears a plain white mask, with a single hole, but Obito _knows_ it's Tobi. The posture, the height, the subtle twitches— it's everything Obito created for his Tobi persona.

 _Tobi_ notices him, too. Obito can't see anything but pure darkness behind the hole, but Obito knows Tobi is looking at him. 

"Senpai," Tobi says, enunciating every syllable, without the usual cheer that Obito used when he was Tobi, "You have a new friend?" 

Obito's eyes narrow as he pushes himself to his feet. He barely keeps the murder out of his tone. "You're the boyfriend, then." He smiles, and this time, he bares his teeth. "You're a lucky man."

For a quick second, Obito feels the hatred that bleeds out of Tobi, then it drains just as fast, replaced by fake cheer as the _copycat_ bounces towards Deidara. Tobi wraps his arms around Deidara, and to anyone, it would look ridiculous, but Obito only sees a claim. _He's mine,_ Tobi seems to say as he squishes his masked face against Deidara's cheek. 

"Senpai, have you been telling stories about Tobi?!" Tobi gushes, and it sickens Obito to see this fake be so close to Deidara. "You really _luuurv_ Tobi!" 

Deidara gags at the smooching noises Tobi makes, but he doesn't make an effort to extract himself away. "Ugh, Tobi." He flicks the masks's forehead, "Dummy, stop being so clingy in public, hm! Help me put everything in my bag and we can go home!"

"Wait, Dei-chan—" Obito's hands twitch when he hears the nickname. "I ordered some food at the cafe, but I left when I saw you, hehe, so can you maybe get our food and I'll tidy up here?" Deidara squints at Tobi. Tobi whines, "Please, please? I'll let you hog all the blankets tonight, promise!" 

"Tobi, you idiot! I don't hog the blankets at all, hm!" Deidara elbows Tobi and holds a hand out, "Give me the receipt."

"Here~"

Deidara moves to leave, then he pauses mid-step, and both Tobi and Obito stiffen when Deidara stops in front of Obito. 

"I don't know you," Deidara starts to say, looking at Obito like he's cataloguing every detail of his face and Obito desperately wants to scream _It's me! I'm_ your _Tobi!_ and barely manages to keep his mouth shut, "but I feel like I have to ask— have we met before?" 

Obito inhales sharply.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta-ed

“—have we met before?” Deidara asks.

Behind Deidara, Obito doesn’t miss the sharp jerk of Tobi’s shoulders, and it takes nearly all of his self-control not to grab Deidara by his shoulders and whisk him away from the impostor. He didn’t succeed with plan Tsuki no me by being impulsive. He’ll have Deidara, but first, he’ll have to deal with a nuisance. 

He flashes Deidara a genuine smile that comes as easily as breathing. “I don’t think we have,” says Obito, and his hands twitch at the sides, overcome with the desire to tuck the stray strands of golden hair behind Deidara’s ear, “I wouldn’t have forgotten your face if we have.”

Deidara’s eyebrows raise at the blatant charm laid on his tone, but Obito isn’t worried about overstepping any lines now. The artist casts him one last penetrating glance before marching away and Obito’s eyes do not leave the blond until he retreats into the coffee shop, well out of sight. He had known Deidara will come into his life at one point, but seeing him, _talking_ to him is still surreal.

When he woke up in this world, everyone he wanted in his life already has a place carved into it in their shapes— his grandmother, Minato-sensei, Kakashi, Rin. He didn’t have to search for them, they were a _given_ for this world, and thus, for the majority of his “life”, he only had to wait for Deidara’s inevitable arrival. There was no question, no doubt, that his old Akatsuki partner would come back to him. It’s simply a fact. 

He wanted Deidara in his life, therefore, he shall have him. He never worried that it’s taking Deidara so long to cross paths with him. 

In hindsight, perhaps, he should have. 

Obito runs his tongue over his teeth and faces Tobi. “Did you have fun posing as me?”

He didn’t notice before, too engrossed in Deidara, but this Tobi doesn’t act nor move like _Obito_ , but like _Tobi_. His Tobi. 

Not an alternate version of Obito, then. 

Still, the lazy sprawl of Tobi’s limbs look unnatural and he wonders if he looks the same in the same position. Tobi is _Obito. Tobi_ shouldn’t exist separately from him. 

Tobi sits cross-legged on the grass, head tilted at the sky. 

“You think I’m a fake, don’t you?”

“Aren’t you?” Obito cracks his neck and rolls a shoulder that has gone stiff, exuding the picture-perfect calmness. “Although, I have to admit, your acting is impressive.” He tilts his head, “For a fake, at least. You have all of Tobi’s twitch and tells down pat.”

There’s a certain stillness to this Tobi that doesn’t reflect the original’s persona, but everything else is too reminiscent. Obito doesn’t like the difference, especially when the image reflects _him._

As seconds pass, and the last vestige of daylight fades into the darkening sky, Tobi keeps his silence, tapping a finger rhythmically on his jean-clad knees. 

Obito’s jaw flex, and he swallows the rage bubbling hot at the base of his throat, replaces it with something less threatening.

“Do you think I’ll make you disappear?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. “I won’t begrudge you the freedom to roam this world.” Then with all the condescension he can muster, Obito adds, “Assuming of course, that you’ve been misplaced.” 

Tobi barely twitches. Obito waits a beat, then another. Still nothing. 

“The concession only applies on the condition that you stay far away from _him._ Otherwise, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to take a physical form, much less have the privilege of thoughts.” Obito chuckles darkly when he catches the imperceptible twitch of hands. “Don’t be greedy. He’s not yours to have.”

“And you think he’s _yours?_ ” 

Obito pauses. “You don’t agree?”

“ _I don’t._ ” Tobi snaps, and Obito’s eyebrows raise at the vehemence it’s accompanied with. 

“Should I remind you, then?” Obito enunciates every word, rage morphing into something more sinister. “Whoever you are, wherever you came from, _doesn’t matter_. You’re a placeholder, and you have exhausted your welcome in my world. Deidara won’t be kept away from me by an overambitious fraud any longer.”

It’s as fascinating as it is repulsive, Obito muses, watching as Tobi’s stoic façade finally crack, to see a mirror-copy of himself do the absolute opposite of what he would have done. The phrase _two sides of the same coin_ has never fit perfectly until now. 

Tobi’s unbridled rage is familiar, but, that’s where the similarities stop. 

Tobi wears the stillness over his skin, where it’s easy to spot and attack. Unlike Obito, Tobi’s composure is easily broken if you know where to hit. And unfortunately for him, Obito _built_ Tobi. He _breathed_ life into Tobi, and there’s no greater insult than having his mask worn against him by a someone lesser. 

When Tobi moves, Obito thought the other is about to attack him, and it surprises him when Tobi begins to pick the figurines Deidara left on the ground. 

“I’m nobody’s placeholder.” Tobi says, several seconds later. 

“And whose mask are you wearing? Whose name are you using?” says Obito. “Mine.”

Even with the mask, Obito hears Tobi’s audible inhale. 

“They’re mine.” Tobi growls. His hand closes around an unfinished clay mask on the ground. 

Something snaps in Obito when he sees Deidara’s gift in the hands of a fake. Tobi’s gloved fingers trace the smooth surface with so much softness that Obito cannot remember being capable of doing. It’s nauseating. 

“Enough.” He bites out. “That mask is not yours. Leave it.”

Tobi clicks his tongue, twisting his head to peer up at Obito. He gets the impression he’s being looked down, despite having the higher vantage. 

“It’s not yours, either.”

Obito clicks his tongue. “I _am_ Tobi, you imbecile.”

Tobi scoffs, zipping all the figurine inside a red duffel bag save for Deidara’s unfinished mask. “No, you’re not. You’re Uchiha Obito.” He stands, stretching. He’s just as tall and broad as Obito. When he speaks, it mirrors every bit of revulsion that Obito feels. “Uchiha Obito has no need for masks.”

“And Tobi,” Obito hisses, “shouldn’t exist. But here you fucking are.”

The park has already plunged into darkness, and one by one, the lampposts lit up. They are running out of time. Deidara can come back any time now. 

“Of course I exist,” says Tobi. “Just not for you.”

Obito already has a hunch. He just doesn’t know _where_ it went wrong. Infinite Tsukuyomi is supposed to be perfect. 

Against all his judgment, Obito asks. “How?”

Tobi cants his head dispassionately. “Why should I tell you?”

“Because I will make you disappear if you return my question with another question, fool,” says Obito. “Now, tell me: how?”

Tobi falls silent, and Obito bears witness to the eeriness of Tobi’s blank mask. When he was Tobi, he wore the mask for its anonymity. This Tobi wears the mask like there’s no person underneath. Out of morbid curiosity, Obito wonders, if he were to lift the mask, will he see his own face staring at him? 

A shiver trickles down his spine despite the humid night as another puzzle piece moves and fits itself in the picture. 

Tobi’s shoulder begins to shake, laughing quietly. Mockingly. 

“You made a lot of foolish mistakes, Uchiha Obito.” Tobi says, “But I have to commend you— meeting Deidara as Tobi has got to be your smartest decision. Had you shown him Uchiha Obito, he never would have given you the time of the day. He might even hate you.” He tips his head to the side, shaking with mirth. “Ah, no. He would have loathed you, that’s for sure.”

Tobi cracks his neck, all signs of insecurities vanished, morphed into an unshakeable arrogance. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?” 

Since waking up in this world, Obito has never felt anger as intense as the one he feels now. It makes his fingertips ache and shake with violence sitting at their tips. It’s guttural. Animalistic. Obito wants to grab Tobi by his neck and tear him open. The rage rings in his ears as his hands tremble with their hunger for blood. 

Tobi cocks his head, the light from the lampposts catches the mask for a brief moment, and a curved eye becomes visible under the fluorescent, dancing with dark amusement. 

Dangerously, Obito grits out. “Don’t fucking test me.”

“Or what?” Tobi is the picture of languid condescension. “Or you’ll kill me? Like you killed Deidara?”

Obito draws back like he’s been struck, wind knocked out of his chest. He swallows a thick, painful lump building in his throat. He digs his nails on his palms. “That was _us_.”

“No,” Tobi snaps. “That was _you_ , Uchiha Obito. You let Deidara die for Tsuki no me— for _this!_ ” He throws an arm out, gesturing around them. “Tobi was the one to brush Deidara’s hair after a mission, Tobi was the one in awe of Deidara’s art, Tobi was Deidara’s partner who has too many secrets and yet, carried Deidara in his arms when he’s too tired to walk!” Tobi takes a threatening step forward, fists shaking. “That wasn’t you, Uchiha Obito. That was _me_.”

_That’s not true,_ Obito wants to yell. 

He did _not_ kill Deidara. 

Deidara’s here, isn’t he? Tsuki no me is Obito’s _reality_. The world without Tsuki no me is hell and Obito just… he snatched Deidara from all that suffering. He took him away from a world that doesn’t appreciate him and his creations and Obito created one where Deidara can live proudly and make his art as much as he wants and receive no mocking. This is the world that Deidara deserve, and did not get. 

Obito rectified that. 

Behind him, a voice says, “You two look serious, hm. You’re not one-upping each other, are you?”

Something sharp and jagged digs right into his heart, and tears it away from his rib cage. Obito gasps, lips cold. Had Deidara heard? What if he heard? An unpleasant wave of fear washes over him like freezing water. 

Deidara steps into his view, paper bag swinging by his hand. He goes straight to Tobi. “I got our food, Tobi.”

Tobi claps, no signs of tension nor anger. Unlike Obito. It’s staggering, to find a lesser version of himself recover faster than he is. “That’s great, senpai! I was just talking to your new friend about art.” Obito stiffens when Tobi raises a hand to cover his mouth and loudly whispers, “He’s a big fan of _expressionism_.”

Deidara makes an offended face. He shifts to take a momentary look at Obito and hums. “Yeah, I can tell. Seems like the type, hm.”

“Right? Right?” 

Obito clears his throat, smiling. “Actually, I’ve been dabbling with different art styles recently and I find myself captivated with Superflat.”

“Superflat?”

Obito’s heart flutters at the smidgen of interest that sparks in Deidara’s eyes. He did that. 

He opens his mouth to reply, when Tobi snakes a possessive arm around Deidara’s waist and pulls him close. Keeping the smile on his face feels like walking barefoot on asphalt and gravel. Deidara didn’t even blink. 

“Ah, it’s getting late, Dei-chan.” Tobi says, and he hefts the red duffel bag on his other shoulder. “We should get home! The pottery show you like so much is about to start in,” he checks his wrist watch, “ten minutes!”

“What?” Deidara’s eyes widen and Obito watches as the artist slides his fingers effortlessly between Tobi’s gloved ones and tugs him forward. “Let’s go home, Tobi!” 

Above Deidara’s head, Tobi’s mask feels unbelievably smug. “Of course, senpai. Let’s go home.”

Obito remains on his place, not quite seething, but his brain is racing through several thoughts at once— _Deidara’s leaving, he has a home with Tobi, Deidara doesn’t know Obito, how will Obito reintroduce himself in Deidara’s life, Deidara’s still fucking leaving_ — when a voice blows away the thick haze like a powerful gust of wind. 

“Oi, Mr. Impressionist!” Deidara calls, and Obito turns to it like the tides moves with the moon. Tobi and Deidara are barely out of the park. Deidara breaks their hand-holding for a second to wave at Obito and even if he linked their hands back together before Obito can even blink, triumph spreads in Obito’s chest. Sweet. Overpowering. “Get a better taste in art, yeah?!”

It’s almost juvenile, to feel competitive against a part of himself, but Obito doesn’t intend to lose. Winning Deidara will take time, and Obito has it in spades. The circumstance is an anomaly, and Deidara getting attached to a fake persona is an unexpected, unfortunate surprise, but Tobi forgets— this world is Obito’s. 

His to spin. 

His to make. 

His to create. 

Obito smiles, raises his own hand and waves back.

It would take so little effort to rewrite the world. 

The park is finally empty. 

Obito closes his eyes—

—and opens the Mangekyo. 

Deidara slams into Obito’s body on a sunny, Sunday morning right just as the stoplights turn green at the crossing. 

“Shit!” Deidara yells, as paint brushes and wires clatter on the pavement. “Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Obito kneels down to help. Deidara’s face is thunderous, but when he lifts his head and meets Obito’s eyes, his face slackens in surprise. 

Obito’s heart beats in chest. 

This is not the first time Uchiha Obito meets Deidara. 

But this is the first time Deidara meets Uchiha Obito. 

Deidara inhales between parted lips and Obito’s eyes follow the movement, captivated. 

Deidara hesitantly asks. “Have we met before?”

This moment is the first time Uchiha Obito would introduce himself to Deidara. 

“My name is—”

A phone rings on the pavement and shatters the bubble they wrapped themselves in. Deidara blinks out of his reverie, snatching the phone before a rushing pedestrian steps on it. Obito exhales a shaky breath and collects everything that Deidara dropped. 

“Stop whining, dumbass!” Deidara yells at his phone. Obito’s hand falters, dropping a small knife. “I just bumped into someone, hm! I’m not cancelling our date, Tobi!”

Obito’s mouth closes with a sharp click. 

Tobi leans against the plaster wall, arms crossed. “Well? Not so powerful now, are you?”

“Shut up.”

“How many times has it been? Nine? Ten?”

Obito tightens his jaw. “I’m not done, yet.”

“Have you tried erasing me?”

He has. Obito has tried so many fucking times. 

When a laugh bursts out of Tobi, Obito opens the Mangekyo and—

—rewrites the world. 

Five hours into the new world, Obito meets Deidara, and Tobi, hanging off Deidara’s shoulders, laughs, and laughs, and laughs. 

Obito presses Rin’s number on the dialer. 

It rings once, twice. Then, “Obito? What’s up? Are you okay?”

“Hey, Rin.” He greets. “I’m fine. Can I ask a favor?”

“Sure. This is not about a new secretary, is it? Stop firing them! We don’t have a long list of competent people who can deal with you!”

“No, no. But… I need you to find someone for me.” 

“…for what?”

Obito smiles at the papers on his desk, hastily made sketches drawn with the fountain pen in his breast pocket, the ink still wet on paper. “I want to renovate my courtyard and replace the ugly fountain with a sculpture.”

“A sculpture?” Rin echoes, perplexed. “Since when have you been interested in those?”

Obito’s smile turns wry. “Humor me.”

“You’re weird today, but okay. I can look for famous artists—”

“I already have one in mind. But I need you to make sure he’ll accept the job.”

“Since when have I failed? You still have a secretary despite your prickly personality, don’t you?” Rin grumbles, and Obito grins. “Tell me their name.”

Obito traces the edge of C0’s lines on white paper and smudges the dark ink. “Deidara. I need you to find Deidara for me, Rin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: obito you can't just rewrite the world everytime you meet deidara and he doesn't remember yoU!!!!!
> 
> Obito: watch me. 
> 
> tobi and me: /looks at the camera like in The Office/


End file.
